Low men in yellow coats by Stephen King

‘Why did they chase you? Who’s hitting?’ Carol’s voice had become uneven. ‘Who’s hitting? ‘

‘Shut up!’ Liz dropped the telephone and put her hands to her ears. Bobby looked at her with growing horror.

Carol turned to him. Fresh tears were rolling down her cheeks. There was knowing in her eyes — knowing. The kind, Bobby thought, that he had felt while Mr McQuown had been trying to fool him.

‘They chased her,’ Carol said. ‘When she tried to leave they chased her and made her come back.’

Bobby knew. They had chased her down a hotel corridor. He had seen it. He couldn’t remember where, but he had.

‘Make them stop doing it! Make me stop seeing it!’ Carol screamed. ‘She’s hitting them but she can’t get away! She’s hitting them but she can’t get away!’

Ted tipped the table out of his lap and struggled to his feet. His eyes were blazing. ‘Hug her, Carol! Hug her tight! That will make it stop!’

Carol threw her good arm around Bobby’s mother. Liz staggered backward a step, almost falling when one of her shoes hooked the leg of the sofa. She stayed up but the telephone tumbled to the rug beside one of Bobby’s outstretched sneakers, burring harshly.

For a moment things stayed that way — it was as if they were playing Statues and ‘it’ had just yelled Freeze! It was Carol who moved first, releasing Liz Garneld’s waist and stepping back. Her sweaty hair hung in her eyes. Ted went toward her and reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

‘Don’t touch her,’ Liz said, but she spoke mechanically, without force. Whatever had flashed inside her at the sight of the child on Ted Brautigan’s lap had faded a little, at least temporarily. She looked exhausted.

Nonetheless, Ted dropped his hand. ‘You’re right,’ he said.

Liz took a deep breath, held it, let it out. She looked at Bobby, then away. Bobby wished with all his heart that she would put her hand out to him, help him a little, help him get up, just that, but she turned to Carol instead. Bobby got to his feet on his own.

‘What happened here?’ Liz asked Carol.

Although she was still crying and her words kept hitching as she struggled for breath.

Carol told Bobby’s mom about how the three big boys had found her in the park, and how at first it had seemed like just another one of their jokes, a bit meaner than most but still just a joke. Then Harry had really started hitting her while the others held her. The popping sound in her shoulder scared them and they ran away. She told Liz how Bobby had found her five or ten minutes later — she didn’t know how long because the pain had been so bad — and carried her up here. And how Ted had fixed her arm, after giving her Bobby’s belt to catch the pain with. She bent, picked up the belt, and showed Liz the tiny tooth-marks in it with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. ‘I didn’t catch all of it, but I caught a lot.’

Liz only glanced at the belt before turning to Ted. ‘Why’d you tear her top off, chief?’

‘It’s not torn!’ Bobby cried. He was suddenly furious with her. ‘He cut it off so he could look at her shoulder and fix it without hurting her! I brought him the scissors, for cripe’s sake!

Why are you so stupid, Mom? Why can’t you see — ‘

She swung without turning, catching Bobby completely by surprise. The back of her open hand connected with the side of his face; her forefinger actually poked into his eyes, sending a zag of pain deep into his head. His tears stopped as if the pump controlling them had suddenly shorted out.

‘Don’t you call me stupid, Bobby-O,’ she said. ‘Not on your ever-loving tintype.’

Carol was looking fearfully at the hook-nosed witch who had come back in a taxi wearing Mrs Garfield’s clothes. Mrs Garfield who had run and who had fought when she couldn’t run anymore. But in the end they had taken what they wanted from her.